


Ficlet Collection

by GabbyD



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crushes, M/M, Pining, Showing Off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-12-13 04:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabbyD/pseuds/GabbyD
Summary: A collection of short Desus stories inspired by different prompts and lists found on tumblr.





	1. 10# “The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: [10# “The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”](http://abigailht.tumblr.com/post/160481583639/desus-ficlet-challenge)
> 
> Prompts and requests are welcome.

It isn’t the first thing Daryl does that leaves Paul slightly breathless, and it certainly won’t be the last. Still, it seems like the hunter was never out of surprises and won’t ever settle for what he was readen as, always showing a different side of himself that nobody would’ve expected otherwise.

Always adding one more factor to the giant crush Jesus has on him.

Like right now, as they came back from a run with Tara and Eugene only to have Rick waiting for them with Judith in arms, the little lady babbling and moving around as soon as she spots Daryl who picks her up without hesitation, rocking her and speaking in such a soft voice that it warms Paul’s heart in an instant. The thing that gets him though is how it simply seems natural to him, and the love Paul can see in his eyes. God, he was a goner.

Does Daryl always do this after every run? Play with the little girl like she was his own, forgetting his own exhaustion, relaxing the instant he picks her up because she’s there safe with him?

_Was he making cooing noises just now?!_

“This is so unfair,” Paul mutters to no one in particular, almost startling when Rick asks him what he means. “He has a motorcycle, is all dark and mysterious with a crossbow and his stupid sleeveless shirts, and now he’s also good with children? What is he not good at?”

His answer makes both Tara and Rick laugh, though he has Eugene nodding along.

“I know! So unfair indeed, my friend,” he adds, “but chicks dig it. The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

“Oh believe me, not just them.”

He’s too distracted looking at Daryl play with the toddler to notice the look both Tara and Rick share, or to hear Eugene’s surprised little “oh”, because in that exact moment the man calls Judith ‘Lil’ Asskicker’ and drop a light kiss on the top of her head and something inside of Paul just melts. He was never much of a kids person but damn if seeing Daryl with a baby didn’t give him ideas. What’s happening to him? This was all Daryl’s fault.

Paul barely pays attention to the short debrief given to them, busy watching as Daryl slowly rocked the toddler in his strong and _exposed_ arms, all he knows at the end of it is that there is a hot meal expecting them in one of the Alexandrian houses and that ‘Dawyl’ was good at avoiding curious little fingers going up his nose. _Dawyl._ It’s only when Rick calls him to talk in a corner that his - admittedly creepy - stare is broken.

Thankfully Daryl didn’t seem to have noticed it, even if he’s the only one.

“Hey, Jesus, you know Daryl isn’t…” Rick starts awkwardly, hand on his neck as a tick showing just how uncomfortable the talk was making him. “That he, uh… Well, he’s my brother, you see.”

Paul just stares at him amused, waiting for the man to get to the point.

“What are you saying, Rick?”

A sigh. “Just be careful.”

“Hey, Paul!” Daryl’s voice makes both of them turn. “You coming?”

 _Hopefully with you soon_ , he thinks but is smart enough to keep it to himself knowing the hunter enough to know such a bold comment wouldn’t be appreciated and probably would end up with him getting punched _again_.

“Yeah, I’m going, wait for me,” Paul tells him, before looking at the former sheriff again. “Don’t worry, Rick, I know what I’m doing.” _Even if I’m acting like a teenager with his first crush_. “You can just shoot me if I hurt him one day, which I promise I won’t by the way and he likely would shoot me himself if I did. That’s what you were trying to say, no?” he jokes, winking at Tara and taking off after Daryl. “Thanks for the shovel talk.”

“What—but!”

“Let him go, Rick. You heard the man,” Tara says with a knowing smile on her face. “He knows what he’s doing. Daryl wouldn’t be happy to know you’re sticking your nose on this.”

“... Since when does he call him ‘Paul’?”


	2. Daryl Has A Crush (part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be a whole fic about a few characters reacting to Daryl's crush, but I ended up giving up. I'll still work on some (and I accept suggestions and requests!) but it won't be it's own fic anymore rip
> 
> This was due a suggestion about Jesus' arm!

War has an odd way of uniting people, creating some sort of peace in the middle of chaos.

Hilltop, Alexandrian and the Kingdom's people learning more together from the other's skills, hardening the less prepared volunteers and working as one to defeat a common enemy. To win.

 _“They were screwing with the wrong people,”_ Rick said once as he told Aaron tales of before, and he didn't understand it then, not really. He just knew they were dangerous and _strong._

He understands it now.

Negan has no idea who he’s dealing with.

They walk around the training grounds, Daryl and him, quietly watching as everyone around him repeated basic movements and checking their chances. They're going to win this, that's sure, all they need is to assure they don’t lose too much in doing so.

No time to doubt themselves.

Daryl stops still in front of him without any warning making Aaron bump into him. “What is it, why did we stop? Daryl?”

In front of them, guiding the rest, is Jesus.

Aaron knew the other couldn't be as lean as he looked like under all those clothes, given what he was able to do and the strength he's seen him show. That being said, Aaron was completely unprepared for Jesus’ exposed arms visible with his sleeveless top. Damn. He watches as Jesus does some movements for others to repeat allowing even more of his defined muscles to be seen.

_Damn._

He looks back at Daryl, trying to understand what was it that made him stop, and is startled to see the hunter look so… well, flustered.

Mouth hanging slightly open and face red from his neck to the tips of his ear, Daryl couldn't be more speechless at the sight. Aaron looks between the two as it hits him, a somewhat confused smile still in face. Oh.

_Oh, Daryl._

The other seems to snap out of it on his own, standing up straight and scowling. Aaron almost laughs at just how _Daryl_ that is but manages to school himself not to at the last minute.

“Daryl?” he tries again, and the hunter turns to him startled as if he’d forgotten he isn't alone after all. “Are you ok?”

“Wha’?”

Aaron waits patiently for Daryl to realize what he said, and when he doesn't he repeats. “I asked you if you're ok, you seem a bit out of it. Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” Daryl looks at Jesus for a second before staring back him, searching for something, and whatever he finds on Aaron’s face makes him even redder as he practically growls. “Yes. Shut it.”

“Alright, I believe you,” Aaron doesn't push.

He waits until Daryl has relaxed just enough to speak again, voice seemingly careless and as innocent as he can fake.

“Didn't expect to see Jesus here today. He's good, don't you think?”

Daryl glares at him, not fooled by any of it for a second, before walking away in a hurry to escape the situation. “ _Whatever.”_

Aaron chuckles. And, unlike Daryl, he doesn't miss the smug smile Jesus sends their way as his eyes follow the hunter go.

Huh. Who knew.


	3. Daryl Has A Crush (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michonne isn't blind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far the planned chapters are Rick's, Maggie's and the final one, but there likely will be a Carol or Jesus one too. Maybe. But if anyone has any request for a specific character be sure to let me know!

Michonne isn’t blind. 

She knows the signs, she knows _him_ , enough to tell what is going on from the very beginning.

The way he postures when the other is around, speaking up when he would usually stay quiet and on guard, his words always a challenge. How Daryl would never leave the scout out of his sight, following him around with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t trust him,” he’d say each time, until everything happened — the Sanctuary happened — and he couldn’t anymore, the lie too obvious for that. By then he’d just scoff and stay quiet, refusing to give an answer.

She stopped asking.

The reason was clear anyway.

At her side Rick snorts at the scene in front of them and it’s then she realizes he knows, too, which really isn’t shocking. They’re brothers after all, not by blood but by something stronger, and Rick knows the man like he knows the palm of his hands.

Michonne trades amused looks with him. Yeah, they got it, alright.

There’s a small horde not far from them but before they could’ve even moved Daryl went off to take them out by himself shooting arrows that hit the target perfectly and throwing his knife at any that dared to try go past him, with Jesus following to cover him, taking off walker after walker with his kicks, each one more impressive than the other.

They barely even remember Rick and Michonne who only watch as the two do moves they normally wouldn’t even bother. Clearly and shamelessly showing off to each other. So that’s why the hunter had insisted on a sleeveless shirt in cold weather.

“Bullseye,” Daryl jokes as he hits another one, his tone almost a challenge, and Jesus smiles brightly at him.

Michonne rolls her eyes and barely manages to muffle her laughter when Rick simply mouths “ _children_ ” at her, his own amusement clear, though there’s happiness there too for his brother.

Daryl finally found it. And they couldn’t be happier for him.

She’ll still tease him relentless, though.


	4. Daryl Has A Crush (part three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie knows that look.

It’d been just a joke at first, something to speculate about and laugh with Glenn after they had seen how Daryl acted with Alexandria’s new ally, Jesus. It wasn't anything serious or even malicious, just normal teasing like every family does, something to help spend time and lighten the mood; something that they kept just between the two of them, in private.

And so each time Daryl would say or do something like puffing up his chest around Jesus, they’d share a look and a smile; too amused with their own little inside joke.  _ Ah but they grow up so fast, _ Glenn would joke later when they’re alone.

Maggie had forgotten all about it once her husband and laughter were gone.

It’s not a joke now, she thinks, as she watches the two talk privately away from the rest— Jesus is looking away at the crops, a small smile on his face as he speaks, touching the plants with care, and Daryl… Daryl’s looking at  _ him, _ with a soft look in his eyes and an amazed expression as if he could barely believe he was there and it was impossible to look away. 

Maggie knows that look.

Her heart hurts at the same time it fills up with joy, too, and she can barely blame the pregnancy for the tears that threaten to show.

Glenn would’ve loved to see this— he should’ve been here, with her, to be proud of their family and laugh and tease the two something awful just like Daryl would do not long ago with them. To give him that bright smile she loves and misses so much and say _I always knew._

But he isn’t here, and that’s yet another thing he won’t get to do anymore.

And so Maggie puts on her biggest winning smile, hugs her still growing belly and waits for her chance to do it for him.


	5. The Clothes Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not the first time it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with the results but this sat in my documents for a long time now and so I decided to just post it already without time for second thoughts. Hope you guys enjoy it! <3

It’s not the first time it happened.

And the worst is, he didn’t connect the dots at first.

It was just one of his bandanas at first, nothing he’d miss too much. Paul thought he’d misplaced it, or maybe even lost it in the midst of the preparation for war, and so he didn’t spare it any thought.

Then it happened again with one or two of his shirts.

Vanished from one day to another with no explanation possible. He found it weird, but shrugged it off. Accidents were bound to happen when you’re doing laundry for so many people.

Then his hat, too.

Then his vest, and his black leather jacket.

Someone is stealing his clothes, and the worst is he has no idea who. It’s not Maggie, that he knows, and nobody in Hilltop showed up wearing something of his. It wasn’t like it was an accident or there wasn’t clothes for everyone all around either. So, why?

Paul wouldn’t mind sharing if whoever that is needed it so much, so long as they asked first, but currently his wardrobe was with a serious shortage of clothes since whoever it was stole more than they gave back. Which they did, every once in a while a lost piece or two would should up neatly folded on top of his bed and no longer smelling like him, but instead of a familiar scent he couldn't quite put his finger on.

But who would even steal it? Was it just a prank, or was there a reason for it all? 

The answer comes when his gloves go missing, only for him to find them the very next day on someone else's hands. Daryl's, to be exact.

“Are those… mine?”

The reaction is immediate: the hunter startles, red to the tips and so obviously flustered, fidgeting nervously like he's trying hard to not hide away his hands and the evidence with it. It'd be almost endearing, if Paul wasn't so utterly confused by it all.

“You said I could take it,” Daryl says defensive, voice barely a whisper.

And maybe the other could see from his blank stare that Paul has no idea he was talking about, no memory of it, because it doesn’t take long before he continues, still embarrassed but firmer this time. 

“After— after the Sanctuary. You said I could take whatever I needed.” 

He… did.

Paul remembers sharing his trailer and closet with a deeply traumatized Daryl, so full of hurt and guilt that he couldn’t help but feel for the hunter. They’d burned the dirty clothes from before— the ratty rags the Saviours had given him, stained with dried blood and smelling so deeply like piss and puke that it almost made him gag— and so for a while Daryl lived only with Paul’s bigger clothes that fit him and the little they could take from Alexandria without raising suspicion.

But that was just while he stayed in Hilltop, and Daryl’s back home now in his old community. Surely he has all of his clothes back.

“I thought you had your stuff now though?” Paul asks confused, voicing his thoughts. “Back at Alexandria?”

There’s a second or two of silence before Daryl shrugs, avoiding his eyes and still red in the face. “It feels safer.”

Paul looks at him, really looks at him, trying to understand the man that always fascinated him like so and understand his thoughts. It’s not surprising that his clothes remind him of safety— it’s logical, really. Paul had been the first one there after the Sanctuary, his clothes clearly the first comfortable thing he’d worn after the cage. But there’s something about the fact that it’s  _ his _ clothes that make Daryl feel secure that makes a warm pleasant feeling spread through his chest regardless of the logic behind it.

Daryl associates him with _ safety.  _ That’s all he needs to know.

He gives the other a small nod.

“That’s fair,” Paul concludes after a while, and Daryl looks up at him surprised before giving him a tight smile and nod; all nervousness vanishing with the lack of judgement and deceit in Paul’s answer.

Clothes keep disappearing after that, but he doesn’t mind. 

And Paul can’t help but start storing away new shirts he’s found the hunter’s size in his closet for the other to steal away; always so pleased with himself whenever one would disappear without a word from him, even more when it was clear Daryl would still prefer his own ones.

And life moved on.


	6. Daryl Has A Crush (part four)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick watched as the puzzle pieces slowly fit together.

The moment they met Jesus, guns trained on him ready for anything and waiting for a reason, Rick knew there was something there.

It’s not so much that they forgot he was there, because they didn’t— Daryl was mirroring Rick’s position and while Jesus didn’t keep his eyes on him for long he was still talking to him. They knew he was there and were aware of his presence, but at the same time, they were entirely focused on each other, too. Almost as if trying to figure the other out.

There was something about the way they wouldn’t look away from each other for long, about Jesus’ cocky expressions and Daryl’s delay to lower his weapon and answer. Distrust, sure, but something else too. Something Rick couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Interest.

So he watched, peeved yet still entirely too amused, as Jesus led them to the most ridiculous chase Rick’s ever been a part of even after years as a cop. He watched as Daryl acted up around the other and glared, and as Jesus would only give him a sly smile in return. As they slowly got closer and closer to each other during the war.

Rick watched as the puzzle pieces slowly fit together.

And now they’re here.

“Someone is glowing today,” Rick comments making Daryl’s scowl get even worse. One of Hilltop residents stare at them before leaving, confused, but he doesn’t know the hunter like Rick does. He can’t see the relaxed face and shoulders, nor the slight twinkle in Daryl’s ever squinty eyes. “So, what happened?”

_“Don’t.”_

Rick has a pretty good guess as to what, and he's not the only one by now to have noticed Daryl’s… crush, so to say, on the one they call Jesus. After the war there's always a reason or two for Daryl to be near the other man - nothing that Daryl would ever admit - and though he wasn’t all smiles and flowers the hunter’s good mood was apparent to anyone who knew what to look for, even cracking a few jokes.

Still, as private as he is, it’d be nice to hear a confirmation from Daryl.

“Come on, I know you. There's something,” Rick insists.

Daryl’s face closes off even more, but when he looks away something in the distance makes him relax again as the corner of his lips twitch a smile, ears a shade of red darker as he nods to the person. And as suspected, when Rick looks, there is Jesus waving at them with a grin on his face and his hair up in a bun.

The second the hunter notices his knowing smile though the moment is ruined.

“Shut up.”

Rick gets serious. “Brother, you know I don’t—”

 _“I know._ It's not that, don't worry. Christ, Rick, ‘course I know.” They stare into each other's eyes, each trying to assure the other, before Daryl looks down again shyly. “It's not that. ‘M just not good at this kind of stuff.”

He puts a comforting hand on Daryl’s shoulder, glad it’s not as tense as it once was. A tight smile is shared between the two as they let the confession hang, Rick doing his best to look supportive and not ask for more than the other was willing to share, but it was the first time the man had shown interest in anyone since the world ended and he couldn’t help but be curious.

Rick wonders if they have spoken about it already, or if they’re still in the early stages of dancing around each other - which was starting to get frustrating for everyone else, the _will-they-or-won’t-they_ has been going on for a while now. A slow dance of sorts.

He keeps it together though; Daryl deserves happiness, and he deserves to have it on his own time.

“Tell me if I need to have a talk with him,” Rick offers half as a joke to his brother once the silence falls between them, though he knows he'd do it in a heartbeat, no doubt in that. “We're family.”

A snort. “Fuck right off, Grimes.”

“I mean it, Dixon!”

Daryl shakes his head, amused at his attics, and starts walking in Jesus’ direction apparently done with the attempt to a heart-to-heart. As he goes, though, Rick notices the slight gait in his walk and the entirely too smug look on the scout’s face. Oh.

 _Huh_.

Slow dance his ass. Maybe he really should have that talk with Jesus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of this story, though there's an extra with Carol <3
> 
> (Inspired by a talk I had long ago with friends, thank you guys for the inspiration!)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to talk to me on tumblr at remuslupinsmiled~
> 
> Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments as they feed the author's soul! <3 And if you have any prompt or suggestion, be sure to tell me it!


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